of her! You didn't want to marry her! How do you think it makes me feel to hear everyone saying that you went along with the king's and Father's wishes to marry a stranger—"
"Who is everyone?" he interrupted coldly.
She dropped her eyes. "I went for a visit to our aunt Margaret's in Oxfordshire late in February. I was going mad here, and Rupert had to journey to London, so he took me to Oxfordshire on his way. I stayed until last week. We went to Hampton Court to watch a day of jousting in the tilting field. That was just after you and—your betrothed were there, and the court could talk of nothing else. Of course, I'd heard already that you had decided to marry that woman after all, but I didn't really believe it until Hampton Court."
"Why didn't you come to visit us in London?" he demanded. "And how did you return to Yorkshire? You could have come with Micheline and me!"
"Rupert brought me back. As much as I despise him, it was better than watching you moon over that Frenchwoman."
"I thought Rupert returned here earlier in the month."
"What difference does it make? I met him by arrangement at Hampton Court, and I must say that at least he remembered my existence, which is more than I can say for you!"
Sandhurst put other thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the problem of his sister. "Cecily, sit down." He went to fetch the goblet of wine and took a drink. "I confess that I am at a loss to understand your animosity toward Micheline. I know what I said in London, but that was before I had met the lady. In France everything was different. I fell in love, and she fell in love as well, not with the Marquess of Sandhurst but with a painter named Andrew Selkirk. Don't you see? Micheline turned aside the marriage King Francois had arranged for her in favor of the man she loved. Doesn't that convince you that she is a good person?"
Fussing with the folds of her satin skirt, Cecily would not meet his eyes. "You're besot. It's as if someone's put a spell on you, but it will wear off! As for Madame Tevoulere, she doesn't deserve you. It wouldn't surprise me if she knew all along who you really were."
He sat down beside her and gripped her arm. "Are you in league with our father to bring me misery? Cicely, you know how dearly I love you. We can deal just as happily together in the future as we have in the past, but first you will have to surrender all these nonsensical ideas you have about Micheline. She wants to be your friend."
"She can never be my sister," Cicely replied stubbornly. "You will always be my only sibling. I could never love anyone else as much."
Sandhurst felt as if he were beating his head against the wall. "You try my patience, child. You justly complain about our family, and now someone has come who would happily brighten both our lives. Once I am married, you can visit us at Sandhurst Manor and in London, for Micheline will be there to look after you when I cannot. Why do you turn away from her?"
Cicely was thinking, I don't want her, I want you, but instead she whispered brokenly, "All my life I've loved you best, Andrew. After Mother died, you were so good to me, and lately I almost believed you might let me come to live with you." Tears spilled onto her cheeks. "It's not the same with that woman here. It seems you've forgotten there's anyone else alive in the world!"
"Sweet child, the love between Micheline and me is not the same as the love I feel for you. I am your brother; I shall always love you. Nothing can change that."
Any response she might make was too mean-spirited to verbalize. Instead, Cicely turned and buried her face against him, weeping.
"If you love me," he continued gently, "you must want me to be happy. I implore you to share my joy and extend a hand of friendship to the woman I love."
She lifted her chin. "I cannot change my feelings, Andrew, any more than you wish to change yours. I will try to be polite to her, but I can't promise more than that."
His jaw hardened. "I begin to think that Father is wearing off on you."
"I may as well go, since we seem to have exhausted